


for the faithless

by lady_krysis (saekhwa)



Series: This Song's For You [3]
Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Canon Character of Color, Character Death Fix, Character of Color, Community: ante_up_losers, F/M, Female Character of Color, Gift Fic, M/M, Male Character of Color, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:57:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/lady_krysis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen denies it, but Clay doesn't have any doubts: Roque betrayed the team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for the faithless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zillah975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zillah975/gifts).



> Titles shamelessly taken from Tom McRae's song "For the Restless."

Clay says, "Roque." It sticks in his throat and sticks harder when Jensen shakes his head and says, "No. No way, man."

"Believe it," Clay says, because they don't have any choice if they want to catch Max, if they want to finish this and set everything right again.

It's Aisha who comes through, who proves that Clay had been right about her, even when they face off and she has a gun aimed at his head, no center mass. If she's gonna do it, she's gonna do it the same way he had to take down her father.

Clay doesn't give her any excuses. In a way, he thinks he understands. They both want the same thing, after all.

She lowers the gun, promises, "Later," and Clay nods, promises he'll be there. He's not going to run from that.

Roque runs, though, hops onto the plane, shouts, "Fuck, Clay! You should've listened to me!"

Clay listens, but all he hears is the ring after Roque's fist connects with his ear.

"You want Max?" Roque asks, the sharp edge of his blade digging into Clay's neck, just below his adam's apple. "He's right here. _Right fucking here_ , Clay."

Then Roque's up and what he's got is a suitcase full of cash and Wade trying to make an escape during their brawl.

It's Cougar who takes them both out, and Clay who finds Max and makes the final decision to go for the detonator, and Jensen, at the end of it all, who insists, "No. You had it all wrong. Not Roque."

"It was Roque, Jensen." But Clay waits until after the Petunias game to tell them all, "We have to find Max."

After a visit with Aisha, a few more leads on Max's location, it's Jensen who looks Clay in the eyes and says, "I'm done."

He's still on board for the next op, and Clay realizes what kind of done Jensen had meant.

~*~

They spend months dragging ass to the ends of the earth on leads that dead end. Some of the intel is good, but not enough of it to bag Max and destroy his operation for good.

Clay's snoozing on the desk, catching what scrap of sleep he can so he can come at this mission with a clear head, try a different angle, get ahead of Max's plans somehow.

"Shit, Clay. Clay!" Jensen grabs Clay's sleeve, drags him over, and points at his laptop. "Look at this."

Clay blinks, not sure if he's looking at this right, but he is. No other way to look at it. Roque's peering up at the camera, holding up a sign: I KNOW WHERE MAX IS.

Clay doesn't trust it, knows he's right when even Jensen hesitates at the door, positions himself to Clay's left and aims his piece at Roque's chest.

Roque limps through the door, and Clay looks from the eye patch to the scars peeking out from the collar of his shirt that crawl up, puckered and long, toward his ear.

Nobody moves, and Roque flicks a look around the room. "Who do you think's been giving you the intel?" 

"Fuck you, Roque," Jensen says, and his face hardens when Roque's eyes find his. "I would have known—"

"Learned from you," Roque says. "Don't leave a trail. Be unpredictable."

Jensen shakes his head, and Aisha rolls her eyes, tucking her gun in the back of her pants.

Clay doesn't think it's an accident when she looks at him and says, "Everyone gets a second chance."

So Clay turns and gives Roque one. "Where's Max?"

Roque stiffens, skirts a look at Jensen, but turns over his sign. On the back is a map. "X marks the spot."

~*~

"We do recon," Clay says after they get Roque strapped to a chair and attach the chair to a desk to further limit his mobility. "Jensen."

Jensen looks distant but glances up, nods. "Yeah, I'll see what I can find."

Cougar and Pooch make a quiet exit, and Clay catches Jensen at the door, reminds him, "He can't be trusted."

Jensen's eyes meet his. "Who are you trying to convince?"

~*~

Some kind of op is definitely running in the warehouse that Roque sent them to. It could be connected to Max, but after the recon, Clay decides that they need more than a connection. He's not settling for less anymore. 

Hands fisted at his sides, he towers over Roque. "He's not there."

"He will be for the drop." Roque flexes his fingers and then curls them tight again around the arms of the chair. They didn't give him much space to move, even after a pat down had drawn up nothing. "It goes down Friday at 6." Roque lifts his head, eyes hard when he looks at Clay. "Don't let him get away this time."

"You gonna pretend you were on my side, Roque?" Clay asks, too soft. It's as close to asking why as he can get.

The answer in Roque's face is a map that Clay can't read anymore. All he says is, "Was just trying to get us back home, man. That money was for the team, Pooch's wife and kid, Jensen's ni—"

The impact, when it hits, is a dull thud that vibrates straight up Clay's arm. His knuckles throb after, skin split like tiny cracks. Roque turns, extends his neck as far as he can, and spits out blood. 

"Feel better?" Roque asks, and Clay has to leave before he keeps going. 

Pooch and Cougar look at him when he steps out of the room. He hears Jensen say, "He could've been working for us all along. Double agent, you know."

It's Pooch who tells him, "This isn't a spy movie, and we're not the CIA."

~*~

Aisha tosses her braid over her shoulder. She's staring through the scope when she says, "Give him a gun, and let's see what he does."

Clay's not even sure he caught what she said, because she doesn't break position. 

When it finally catches up to him, he shakes his head. "I'm not risking the team." 

He can't pinpoint when he started using 'the' instead of 'my' or when Aisha transitioned from outsider to member. They haven't talked about her getting her revenge. There are times when she holds out her gun, aims at his head, smiles and says, "Bam, you're dead," and Clay knows she isn't joking. 

She turns to him with that same smile, cut-blade sharp across her face. "Didn't you, though?"

~*~

"So what happened to the money?" Clay asks as he's cutting Roque loose. 

The team isn't a democracy, but Clay's been known to listen to them once in a while. This happens to be the next best move for them, so now, Roque's free to move about.

The first thing Roque does is stretch his neck from side to side. Then he slowly stands, and Clay watches him limp toward the door, leaning on his left leg for support.

Roque catches him looking when he tosses out, "Hospital bills."

~*~

The team's wary, except for Jensen, who holds out the Desert Eagle when Roque steps into the room. "Been keeping it safe."

Clay turns away and stares hard out the window. "Listen up, Losers."

~*~

What Clay finds in the warehouse isn't Max. It's two briefcases stacked with cash. 

"Is that—" Pooch asks, but he's staring at the high stack of tightly-wrapped bills just like the rest of them.

Clay looks up, finds Roque standing across the room. "You lied." He clamps his jaw shut against the 'to me,' but it makes his tongue itch. 

"Yeah," Roque says, and that's it. Nothing else comes after. 

Truthfully, Clay had expected another lie. 

"Time to let it go, Clay." Roque nods to Aisha, but she shakes her head, voice clipped when she reminds them, "It's not the same. Don't use me as an example."

Roque nods and holds up his hands, looks at Clay again. "Time to let it go, man. The team shouldn't be chasing after a white whale."

Jensen snorts, mutters something about, "Literary allusions, dude, seriously?"

Clay sweeps a look around the room, at Pooch and Cougar and Jensen, even Aisha. Pooch meets his stare, Cougar tips his hat and lowers his head, Jensen averts his eyes, and Aisha answers with a shrug.

"There's enough money in there to get us all settled," Roque says, and starts pulling out the stacks, touching them like he's gotta prove they're real. "Second chance."

Aisha huffs a laugh, smiles wide as she spreads her hands, covering the whole of the room and everyone in it. "Everyone gets one."

Clay snatches away the second suitcase and shuts it, yanking the zipper before he wheels it to the middle of the room. "Then take it," he says, and turns to face everyone. 

A broad hand lands on his shoulder, squeezes hard enough to keep him rooted. It's all too familiar. 

"Fucking stop," Roque whispers in his ear. "Just fucking stop, man. We've been doing this too long."

Clay turns his head just enough to catch Roque's eye, the one he hadn't tried to dig out when they'd faced off against the tarmac. "We're not the guys who retire, remember?" Those had been Roque's words when they'd first been bumped up to special forces. His words when they'd said yes and decided this was the job they were born for. 

Roque's hand falls, and Clay's about to walk away when Jensen says, "Hey, wait." He peers over his laptop, eyes skirting between Clay and Roque. "I think I got a lead on Max. He's been spending a lot of money all of a sudden."

It's Roque who walks out.

~*~

"What're you talking about, man? I do some of my best work in boxers," Jensen says. It's the same line he's been using for years, whenever he gets caught. 

Clay's pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear it, but he's at the door, just out of sight, and he can see the tilt of Roque's smile, that same mild exasperation when he knows nothing's going to change. 

Clay takes those final steps into the room, and the mood shifts almost immediately. A lot has changed, but at least Jensen's got his clothes on.

"Still trying to track it," Jensen reports. "His security's pretty good."

Clay nods and stands there a beat longer, but staring over Jensen's shoulder isn't going to make him work faster, so he turns and walks out of the room. 

~*~

Clay and Roque are standing outside, and it's the first time in a long time that Clay's craving a cigar. Roque's staring at him like he knows, and it's one more reminder of what used to be. Clay doesn't let himself linger there long. 

"What are you trying to accomplish?" Roque asks. 

Clay stares at the ground, and sometimes, when it's dark like it is now, he can see the chopper and the kids and everything that went wrong. "Some peace of mind."

"Jesus, Clay." Roque steps closer, but that one small step isn't going to close the distance between them. "You're not gonna find it this way."

~*~

Clay spends the night with Aisha, who laughs, husky-soft in his ear before she bites it hard enough to make Clay jerk. 

"I don't know," she says in answer to a question he didn't ask. She sinks down his cock, rocks fast and hard. "A bullet." Her words are broken with a shudder, and she tangles her hands in his hair, pulls a little too hard for comfort, but that doesn't stop Clay from thrusting up to meet each roll of her hips. "A bullet fixes a lot of problems."

~*~

"Figured it out," Jensen says, and tips back his chair, so everyone can get a look at the screen. "Next move is somewhere in Cajamarca."

They all look to Clay, except for Roque, who sets his hand on Jensen's shoulder and leans closer for a better look. Clay has to wonder how bad Roque's vision is. How badly he fucked it up if he were going to be honest. 

Seems like Jensen might have an idea, because he points at the screen and Roque nods. Second chance seems to be the phrase they're all tossing around, but the one Clay knows he can get is right in front of him — the details on Jensen's laptop, not the smile that Jensen flashes Roque's way. 

So Clay straightens and says, "Let's move, Losers." Because the money'll wait, but Max won't, and it's been so long that he owes his team that.


End file.
